


House of Troubles

by raunchyandpaunchy



Series: Frostfall [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Dominance, Edgeplay, Kinktober, Knifeplay, M/M, Masochism, One Shot, Sadism, Safewords, Smut, Submission, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-07 02:06:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16399352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raunchyandpaunchy/pseuds/raunchyandpaunchy
Summary: Malacath. Molag Bal. Sheogorath. Mehrunes Dagon. According to Dunmer lore, all Four Corners of the House of Troubles. Along with one particularly sadistic agent of Sithis, they'll test Drevis Neloren's resolve to its very limit.





	House of Troubles

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the following Kinktober prompts - Edgeplay (18th), Sadism/Masochism (21st) and Waxplay (24th). 
> 
> CONTENT WARNING: This fic contains heavy play, specifically knifeplay. The Dominant in question is an assassin by trade, so there is definitely a lot of psychological fuckery going on. If this isn't your thing, please proceed with caution or do not read this fic. I have done my best to keep everything in this one-shot risk aware, consensual and as responsible as it can be - if there's anything you feel I've missed, please let me know! As always, comments/feedback are greatly appreciated, and I hope you enjoy. <3

The Sanctum was quiet. Most of its denizens had long since departed, leaving for their respective homes and havens to settle back into their regular lives. Candles had burned down to the wick, wax dripping and trailing down cast-iron candelabras to the flagstone floor. In the hearth, the last dying coals and embers of the fire smouldered, alive but only just. The hall was empty, save for two people. One was a Redguard man, with eyes so dark a brown they almost looked black in the dim light, eyes that focused tirelessly on the Dunmer in front of him, his own eyes blood-red and piercing, a glimmer dancing in them like sparks from a freshly stoked fire.

Drevis Neloren returned Nazir’s penetrating gaze in kind. He took a moment to take everything in about the man - the shape and texture of his hair, closely shorn to his scalp; the arrogant arch of his brow and cruel curve of his lip; the gold ring that adorned his beard, knotting it into a neat point. Briefly, he wondered how many other souls had studied these same features before meeting their demise at the end of his curved blade.

“Haven’t vanished back to the College by now, Neloren?”

The question was completely rhetorical - the man knew damn well why he was still here; he just wanted to hear him state it out loud.

“I’ll get there eventually,” Drevis replied, smiling enigmatically in response. _If he wants me to say it so badly, he’ll have to try harder than that._

An eyebrow raised; a silent challenge being accepted. “Mm. Not much call for lessons on how to fuck while invisible, is there?” Nazir’s tone was laced with contempt.

Drevis smirked back. “Not as much as there should be.”

Nazir’s face hardened. He moved closer to Drevis, and he felt the air around him grow colder. _Likely...likely just the fire dying out._

“So, why are you still here?” Nazir’s voice was a low growl, barely more than a whisper yet the presence of it cut through the silence like a fissure.

A shiver rolled through Drevis as he responded, but he did his best to conceal it. “You know why, _s’wit_.”

This was, apparently, the wrong thing to say. Nazir closed the gap between them, gripping Drevis’ hair in his hand and yanking his head back as he snarled in his ear.

“No, I don’t think I do, elf.” Nazir’s voice was low and rumbling; his breath tickling along the tip of the Dunmer’s ear. “And I don’t think I like your tone.”

Drevis’ skin crawled, his loincloth straining uncomfortably.

“I’ll ask you again, and I’ll give you one more chance to answer properly before my patience runs out.” Nazir’s hand remained clutched in Drevis’ hair as he continued. “Why are you here, Neloren?”

Drevis swallowed; a small, awkward noise in the silence. “For you, _Serjo_.”

The rough grip on Drevis’ hair loosened, Nazir’s hand making its way across his face and focusing its grasp on his jaw.

“Good answer.” He delivered a few calculated sharp slaps across Drevis’ face as he smiled down at the Dunmer. “Over to my bench. Undress.”

So renowned were Nazir’s proclivities in the Sanctum that Adrianne had made him his own bench; a combination of mahogany and leather, with straps lining the sides and shackles affixed to either end. The shackles glowed and hummed with a strange energy - crimson and swirling, like an enchantment gone awry. Along the wall, Nazir’s own weaponry could be seen hanging from the rack - floggers, crops, canes, even a particularly nasty looking rug beater. A nearby table held a large candle, numerous bottles and a curved, razor-sharp dagger.

Drevis nervously disrobed, considering Nazir - in all his years, he had never met anyone with such a sheer hunger for darkness and despair, not even in the members of the Morag Tong he had known intimately. _Perhaps that came with the territory of being an agent of Sithis._

“Glad to see you’ve not pulled one of your disappearing acts,” Nazir said as he approached the bench, picking up the dagger from the table and examining the blade as he rolled the handle around in his palm. “It might amuse the others - I find it tiresome.” He sneered as he spoke, derision cutting through like the edge of his blade. “Maybe it’s time you learned some new tricks.”

With that, Drevis was laid on the bench supine and fastened to the shackles as Nazir spoke. “Still using the Sanctum safewords, Neloren?”

“Yes, _Serjo_ ,” Drevis replied. Iron for mercy, ebony for stop. Inelegant but simple, and perfectly suited for purpose, much like many other of Adrianne’s creations.

“Good.” Drevis watched as Nazir leaned over to grab the large, unlit candle that sat on the table next to them. Nazir grinned, presenting the candle to Drevis. “Be a good little elf and light this for me, won’t you?”

Drevis flicked his fingers, and was surprised when the flames failed to form. This was a task that should have been trivial - all Dunmer had even a rudimentary command of fire magicka woven into their very being, even those who weren’t Destruction mages. He tried again, gritting his teeth in frustration when his hand remained empty and cold, trying his best to ignore the look of growing impatience on Nazir’s face. Drevis took a breath, chalking it up to nervousness. He tried once more, flicking his fingers, focusing wholly on summoning even one small lick of flame. Nothing.

Nazir chuckled; an oily, sinister noise. “Having trouble? Might have something to do with the magicka blocking enchantment I had put on the shackles. Stops Restoration mages healing themselves, Alteration mages fortifying their defenses...and perverted Illusion mages from turning themselves invisible when their Master is fucking them.”

Nazir grabbed Drevis’ hair, yanking it back as he placed the blade’s edge against his neck. Leaning in, he growled in his ear. “If I wanted to watch my own cock get stroked, Neloren, I’d just do it myself.”

Drevis exhaled as he felt the blade be removed and the grip on his hair loosen, the thuddy slap of flesh against flesh echoing through the near-empty room as his cock fell against his stomach, hot and hard and begging for attention. He could feel raw, unbound energy itching and coursing through his very being; impulsive jolts of chain lightning seeking their target. Nazir left him to ride out the impatient waves, lighting the candle with flint and steel as he watched him shiver and pant.

“I’ll do this myself, too. No need for magic.” Nazir’s lips curled with derision at the last word. It was well known that Redguards did not care for the arcane, but Drevis knew he was just trying to get under his skin. To his credit, it was working.

“Fairly sure enchanting counts as magic,” Drevis responded, a faint hint of a smirk playing across his lips. “Or doesn’t it count when-”

He was silenced by the blade being pointed squarely under his chin. One errant movement was sure to equal bloodshed. Sweat dripped from every pore as he froze, completely at the mercy of the man above him.

“Oh please, do go on.” Nazir’s eyes gleamed with fury as he extended the challenge. “You were saying?”

Drevis couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. All he could feel was the cold, clammy wash of sweat against his skin and the knife edge snug against his neck. Nazir’s eyes penetrated his very soul, pressing him for an answer.

Drevis stammered. “N-nothing, _Serjo_.”

This time, Nazir didn’t lower the blade. “Any more insolent outbursts like that and I’ll make sure you can’t make any more. Is that clear, elf?”

Drevis shuddered at the implication. That could mean anything - his mouth gagged, used to pleasure his Master, or something far darker. “Yes, _S-serjo_.”

Finally, the dagger was lowered. Despite the impending danger, his cock remained erect and throbbing, dripping on to his smooth, grey stomach.

Nazir smiled, cruel and catlike as he ran the dagger across Drevis’ abdomen. He yelped out, the harsh cold of the blade feeling almost as biting as the bitter winds of Skyrim against the Dunmer’s bare flesh. _By Azura, I really might fucking die._

Drevis felt the cool, sharp blade graze gently across his flesh, pressing against enough to make contact but never enough to draw blood, Nazir purring with approval as he did so. He repeated the mantra internally - _iron and ebony._

“Holding up okay, Neloren?” Nazir looked up at him, his grin as sharp and deadly as his dagger.

“Just about, _Serjo_ ,” Drevis replied honestly.

This amused Nazir, who let out a low chuckle as he turned to the table to retrieve one of the many glass bottles. “Sithis’ sake, man, I was just getting rid of the excess hair before the next part. You didn’t think I was going to kill you, did you?”

Drevis’ face must have been all the answer Nazir needed, because he didn’t even wait for the Dunmer to respond.

“If I wanted to kill you,” he said, in a voice so low it reverberated through Drevis’ very soul, “I’d have done it long before now.”

Another dull thud of cock against stomach echoed out, loud and vulgar. Drevis couldn’t help but let out a low whine as he felt the two make impact, the spot where they met now uncomfortably sticky with his secretions. Nazir’s body felt like a furnace against his, burning hot where he crouched above him. As if to counteract the warmth, he poured the contents of one of the bottles onto Drevis’ skin, the liquid cold and slick, rubbing it in with his warm, calloused hands.

Drevis watched Nazir’s hands work over his body, slowly and deliberately as they massaged the oil into him, gripping and stroking and teasing his cock. His own grey skin glistened, appearing near silver in the dim candlelight. Drevis bit his lip and let out a whimper, allowing himself to give a little.

“ _Serjo_ , please,” Drevis begged, his voice reedy. “More. More!”

Nazir released Drevis’ cock from his grip, a wicked smile playing across his lips. He wiped his hands along Drevis thighs as he reached for the candle. Drevis let out a keening moan underneath him, both desperate for and terrified of what was to come.

“I take it you’ve heard of dreugh wax?” Nazir asked, still smiling cruelly. “I understand it’s common in Morrowind. Doesn’t burn quite as hot as beeswax, luckily for you.”

Nazir angled the candle over Drevis, letting the wax drip downwards onto the Dunmer’s glistening grey skin. Drevis let out a yelp of shock as he felt the burning heat wash over him, the surge of slight pain quickly giving way to something far more pleasurable.

“That doesn’t mean it won’t still smart, though,” Nazir purred.

The wax ran further down Drevis’ body, tracing from his chest to the dip in his stomach, just this side of too hot as it first made contact. Drevis watched as the wax hardened, turning from clear to opaque, the ivory trails contrasting beautifully against his dark skin.

“Enjoying this, Neloren?”

Guiltily, Drevis nodded. “Yes, _Serjo_.”

Nazir’s eyes gleamed with sinister desire. “I might need to try a bit harder to make it less pleasurable for you, then.”

He lowered the candle slightly, the flame now flickering enthusiastically in Drevis’ eyeline. He could hear the crackle as it burned, almost feeling as if the flame was licking at his bare flesh as Nazir brought the candle nearer to him. This time when he poured the wax, it seared burning hot, not unbearable but not pleasurable like it had been either.

“Fuck!” Drevis cried out, skin still stinging where the wax had touched, seizing and hardening over the pinkened flesh. He breathed and moaned as he felt the pain subside and blur into pleasure, suddenly missing the contact of hot wax against warm skin.

Several long, laborious drips followed, making him cry out in raptures of anguished pain-pleasure. Some traced over the wax that had already fallen, other lines traversed over untouched skin, seeking more tender flesh like nipples or the lower stomach. Drevis’ breath was ragged, his voice begging for mercy, both in common tongue and Dunmeris, but never saying the one word he knew he needed to say to receive it.

“Yield to me, elf,” Nazir growled, the candlelight making shadows dance across his face. In this light, his sinister grin appeared even more grotesque than usual.

This time when the wax touched bare skin, the pain was overwhelming, the searing sting of Nazir’s retribution now too much to bear. Drevis threshed against the shackles, trying and failing to ride out the sensory assault.

“Iron! Shit, I submit, please stop!” Drevis begged, breathing through the still intense pain. He sighed with relief when he felt Nazir’s hand rub the still hot wax into his skin, feeling it immediately cool. It didn’t completely rid him of the pain, but it soothed it somewhat.

“Good elf. How does it feel to learn your place?”

Drevis looked into Nazir’s mahogany eyes, letting out a sigh as he saw the hunger in them that mirrored his own. His body stung with the retribution Nazir had put him through, but already he could feel it give way and fade into pure pleasure. His ego should sting too, really, but it didn’t. Pride had long since given way; lust and sheer adoration taking its place. The only thing Drevis wanted now was to submit wholly to the man before him.

Drevis smiled. “It feels good, _Serjo_.”

Nazir’s hand stroked Drevis’ hair for a fleeting moment before placing the candle on the table and retrieving the dagger.

“I’m glad, Neloren. Because I’m going to take you completely.”

Nazir’s eyes gleamed down at Drevis; a wolf to the Dunmer’s lamb. Any warmth that had existed in Nazir’s eyes was replaced with a steely coldness, his expression now blank and unreadable. His knife glinted in the light, the edge deadly sharp as he lowered it to Drevis’ stomach.

_I’m going to die._

The blade scraped gently against Drevis’ flesh, lifting the hardened wax off his sensitive, trembling skin. For a moment, Drevis felt nothing, eyes clenched shut and senses completely overloaded, only occasionally feeling the cool, almost damp scrape of the knife against flesh. He breathed.

After what seemed like hours, he looked down, but found he was still very much intact, his internal organs all still where they should be.

Drevis exhaled loudly. “ _B’vek,_ I really thought I was done for, there.” He let out a shrill, nervous laugh.

Nazir grinned, continuing to scrape the wax from the Dunmer’s body. “It doesn’t matter how many times I tell you, does it, Drevis?”

“No, _Serjo._ ” Drevis’ nervous giggling continued, in spite of himself.

The laughter subsided as he felt Nazir’s thumb brush against his lip, soothing and shushing his bubbling tension. “Surely you know by now that when I’m here, I’d rather fuck than kill.” Nazir’s blade continued scraping away errant wax, Drevis trying his hardest not to squirm under the movement. Nazir’s body pressed hot and hard against him, the Redguard’s excitement already painfully evident as it pressed against Drevis’ thigh through Nazir’s cloth trousers.

Satisfied that most of the wax had been removed, Nazir adjusted the position of Drevis’ leg shackles, moving them up so the Dunmer’s legs were pushed upwards and spread open. Drevis knew full well what this meant, as did his body, and felt his cock throb and pulse in response.

“I suppose you were right, in a way,” Nazir smirked as he disrobed. “I _am_ going to impale you.”

He retrieved the same bottle as before, working the contents into his own cock this time, stroking his considerable length languidly as his eyes focused squarely on Drevis.

“You can pretend that you’re different, Neloren, but we both know you’re just as much of a desperate slut.”

Drevis let out a low, guttural moan as he felt Nazir work oiled fingers across his arsehole. Slowly, the slick digits pressed inward, filling Drevis as he strained against the shackles. Torturously slowly.

“You really are a fucking sadist,” Drevis panted, voice lustful and pleading. “Please just fuck me, _Serjo._ ”

The same thing Drevis had made others beg him for many times. The irony was not lost on him.

“I think you can ask me better than that,” Nazir purred, still stroking his glistening cock as he slid his fingers further into Drevis’ arsehole. “Beg for it, slut.”

“Please,” he whimpered, voice thin and desperate. “Please fuck me like the slut I am, _Serjo_. Make me yours. Please, please, please…”

The last word died out on his lips as he felt Nazir remove his fingers, only to situate his cock snugly against his arsehole. Drevis purred as he felt the head rub against his sensitive hole, hot and hard and unyielding.

“You ready, Neloren?” Deep brown eyes gazed down at him, making Drevis’ cock throb.

“Yes, _Serjo._ ”

With that, Nazir pushed his length into Drevis, the pair gasping at the sensations as they adjusted to each other. Nazir was surprisingly gentle, allowing Drevis some time to adjust before quickening his pace and thrusting deeper into the Dunmer’s arse. Each time, it was just this side of too much, bringing Drevis up to the edge of what he thought he could take then letting him back down. He didn’t know whether to beg for mercy or beg for more.

“I don’t know why you turn invisible,” Nazir panted, voice heavy with lust. “You look much better when I can see you being fucked.”

Nazir’s thrusts intensified, driving Drevis closer to the brink of collapse. The pair moaned and panted in tandem, the slick slapping sounds of their fucking echoing throughout the chamber. Drevis continued to strain against the shackles, trying in vain to grind himself against Nazir as he pounded his arse with careless abandon, his wrists and ankles rubbed raw from effort.

Every inch Nazir gave him was maddeningly exquisite; every thrust one closer to Drevis’ own release.

“You want more, _nilyn_?” Nazir smiled down at Drevis.

Drevis could only whimper and nod in response, reduced to a quivering wreck of a slut. He looked into his Master’s eyes, heavy lidded and brimming with lust; presumably mirroring his own. Nazir’s muscular frame flexed and writhed above him, dark brown skin peppered with scant black hair tracing the most stunning features, ones made even more beautiful by the fact that they did the most filthy, wonderful things…

“Oh... oh fuck…”

Curses in common tongue and Dunmeris escaped Drevis as he was finally tipped over the edge, feeling the pressure build up and up as Nazir pistoned into him until his orgasm crashed over him, violent and intense. He felt the warm, wet splash of his seed against his stomach as the waves of euphoria pulsed through him, twin sensations of the most gorgeous kind. He let himself writhe and moan and cry out as he rode out the spasms and shocks of pleasure, Nazir still fucking him as he pleased, chasing his own release.

It didn’t take long before it arrived. Drevis’ own climax spurred on Nazir, who came with a berserker-like intensity, his guttural growls and moans reverberating around the Sanctum. Drevis purred as he felt Nazir’s cock fill his arse with warm, thick cum, the still-hard appendage twitching with the aftershocks as he slowly pulled out. Exhausted and spent, he buried himself into Drevis, peppering his still raw skin with tender kisses as he nuzzled into the Dunmer.

When he could bear to move, Nazir carefully unlocked the shackles, thumbing the pinkened spots as he freed Drevis.

“Holding up okay?”

No longer his superior, his Master to be obeyed; now the man in front of Drevis had the free and easy demeanour of a lover and friend.

“Mmm. Wonderful,” Drevis responded muzzily.

Nazir retrieved a cloth from a nearby cupboard, wiping the cum from Drevis’ stomach with a satisfied smile. “That’ll do for now. We can go for a bath later.” He reached over for a small bottle on the table, uncorking it and pouring a little of the liquid out into his hand, rubbing it gently into Drevis’ raw wrists and ankles, and the still-pinkened spot on his chest.

“Just a simple healing salve,” Nazir explained. Then, looking slightly sheepish, he added, “I may have pushed you too hard.”

“Wouldn’t be like you,” Drevis remarked, smiling wryly.

The pair retreated to the Sanctum bathhouse, Nazir pumping the water and Drevis heating it with magefire, smiling as he realised that the Redguard really didn’t hate magicka as much as he purported. As the two sat in the makeshift bath, Drevis in front of Nazir and cradled in his arms, he asked him, “Haven’t skulked back to the Sanctuary yet?”  
  
Nazir just smirked. “Shut it, _nilyn._ ”

**Author's Note:**

> Handy dandy Dunmeris vocab guide!
> 
> Serjo is an honourific, in this instance equal to Sir; s'wit is an insult - a shortened version of slackwit; b'vek is an expression of surprise; nilyn means whore.


End file.
